


The Videotape

by Khylara



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21731164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Relationships: Shane McMahon/Triple H, triple h/vince mcmahon jr
Kudos: 1





	The Videotape

Title: The Videotape  
Author: Khylara  
Fandom/Couple: WWF & I'm not telling. I don't want to give it away.  
Rating: NC17  
Feedback: Yes, either onlist or off at [Melmast@...](mailto:Melmast@...)  
Archive: Yes to whoever wants it. Just tell me where it ends up so I  
can visit.  
Spoilers: Slightly for WM17  
Sequel: Sorta kinda to "Before The Match"  
Synopsis: Shane finds out why.  
Notes: This is in 1st person - Shane's POV. There are some  
inconsistancies, but I didn't know how to fix them so here they are.  
I did try to write it in the same POV as "BTM", but my Shane muse (who  
I'm still getting to know) insisted on whispering all this into my ear  
and of course I had to listen. Also, this doesn't follow canon - I  
went along on my merry little way with this. Blame Shane - once he  
gets going, I can't shut him up. :)  
  
Thanks to everyone for their kind words on my first attempt. And for  
those of you who wondered why, here's the answer.  
  
//-indicates thought <>\- voices on videotape  
  
*************  
  
The Videotape  
-Khylara  
  
It had started out as a good day, with me still riding high on my  
victory at Wrestlemania 17 over my father and my appearance at WWF New  
York being the icing on a very sweet taste of revenge and payback.  
Mom was back at her desk as CEO, cleaning out Dad's cronies and  
enjoying every minute of it. As for myself, I was spending my time  
between conference calls to Atlanta and packing; I was hammering out  
contracts and firming up storylines while trying to get ready for my  
move down there at the same time. Exhausting, but productive.  
  
The only dark spot lately had been my lack of communication with  
Hunter. I hadn't seen him since right before my match and he hadn't  
returned any of my calls. I knew it was over between us, had known  
since Wrestlemania and I accepted that. Didn't like it, but I  
accepted it. But I still didn't know why our affair had ended so  
suddenly and after three years together I felt that I at least  
deserved an explanation.  
  
/Maybe he's angry about the whole WCW thing,/ I mused as I drove.  
After all, it did involve a permanent move to Atlanta. But Hunter's  
out on the road a good half of the year, so we rarely got to see  
eachother as it was. Only when both of us had been involved in a  
storyline did we ever spend any significant time together. it had led  
to a fairly high level of frustration for both of us.  
  
/Maybe that's it,/ I thought as I turned a corner, heading for my  
mother's new house. Maybe the distance between us had become too much  
for him to bear.  
  
/Or maybe he's found someone new./ A little voice in my head supplied.  
/Maybe he's tired of fucking the boss' brat./  
  
/Shut up,/ I shot back. That was enought to silence my little inner  
demon, but the doubt remained.  
  
/Things have been strained lately the past few times we've been  
together,/ I couldn't help thinking. Ever since Hunter had lost his  
Championship belt, there had been a distance between us, one I  
couldn't breach no matter how hard I tried. Seeing someone else was a  
plausible explanation.  
  
But why not tell me? Okay, I would've been angry, upset even.  
Definitely heartbroken; I loved him and I wanted it to work between  
us, was willing to do anything so it would. But if it didn't, I would  
accept it and move on. I'm a grown man; if a relationship ends,  
that's what you do.  
  
So why wasn't he giving me that chance? Why the silence?  
  
I didn't know. And the more I thought about it, the angrier I became,  
until I was pounding the steering wheel in frustration.  
  
I pulled into the driveway of Mom's new house. Because of the chaos  
my apartment was in, she had offered to put me up until I lef ttown.  
Personally, I didn't think she wanted to be alone and after everything  
Dad pulled on her I didn't blame her one bit.  
  
I grabbed my bag and made my way up the shrub-lined walk. /Maybe she  
can help me sort this mess out,/ I thought as I slung my bag over my  
shoulder. Mom knew the entire story about me and Hunter. She's  
always been my chief confidant, my angel in every sense of the word.  
I was going to miss her terribly when I finally had to go.  
  
/End up spending a fortune on long distance./ I couldn't help  
chuckling as I knocked on the front door before letting myself in.  
  
There were still boxes everywhere; she had just moved out of Dad's  
mansion and she was still in the process of unpacking. Knowing my  
mother, though, it wouldn't be long before everything was in apple pie  
order. "Mom!" I called as I dropped my duffel by the stairs; I didn't  
want to scare her unneccessarily. She's had enough fright to last a  
lifetime.  
  
Silence, and I began to worry. "Mom!" I called, louder this time as I  
made my way through the house. If anything had happened to her...  
  
"In the back room, Shane," she finally said and I quickly made my way  
to the back of the house.  
  
I found her sitting on the sofa, staring at the dark TV screen with  
tears streaking her face. I immediately sat down next to her and took  
her hands. "Mom?"  
  
She straightened visibly, pulling herself together before she turned  
to me. "I'm okay, sweetheart," she said, her voice a little shaky.  
She forced a smile. "Really. Don't look so worried."  
  
Don't look worried? You might as well tell Taker to give up his  
motorcycle. Not going to happen. "Then why are you crying?" I asked  
gently, squeezing her hand. "What happened?"  
  
She shook her head and changed the subject. "Have you heard from  
Hunter lately?"  
  
I frowned, puzzled. "Not since Wrestlemania. Right before my match  
with Dad he came by my dressing room and we talked." I felt a lump  
form in my throat as I remembered. "We didn't say as much, but  
it's...we're pretty much over. I haven't heard from him since."  
  
"Did he say why?" she asked, her eyes meeting mine. "Offer any kind of  
explanation?"  
  
I shook my head. "No, but he's been...I don't know...distant for  
awhile now. A few months." I shrugged, glancing away. "Maybe he's  
found someone new."  
  
"A few months?" I nodded and she frowned as well, her mouth set in a  
thin line. "That long," she murmurred. "He was right. Damn them  
both."  
  
I stared at her, eyes wide. Mom hardly ever cursed. The fact that  
she was doing it now showed just how upset she was. "Mom, what's  
wrong?"  
  
She didn't say anything for a moment; all she did was look at me with  
such sadness in her eyes that I felt my heart go out to her. Then, to  
my suprise, she laid her hand against my cheek. It was an old form of  
comfort between us, usually reserved for when I was sick as a kid. It  
sent a chill up my spine; something was REALLY wrong.  
  
"Are you okay?" I asked again, squeezing her hand. It felt cold, so I  
began to rub it gently. Her recent ordeal had left her frailer than  
anyone had guessed. The only ones who knew the truth were me, Mick  
Foley (who had become my mother's personal guardian angel) and the  
doctor Mick had found for her and all of us were sworn to secrecy.  
"Did Dr. Brooke find something?"  
  
Mom smiled at me. "No, it's something different," she said softly,  
squeezing my hands with her own. It was then I noticed that she  
didn't have her wedding ring on.  
  
She caught me staring at her hand and nodded. "Something to do with  
that, actually," she answered my unspoken question. "But there's  
something else. Something that concerns you as well." She paused,  
hesitating a moment before finishing. "About Hunter."  
  
I frowned. "What about Hunter?"  
  
She let go of my hands long enough to pick up the TV remote. "Mick  
brought this over to me this afternoon," she said. "The security  
guard in Cleveland is a friend of his; he saw what was on the tape and  
gave it to him, knowing that it would get to me." She paused, turning  
the remote over and over in her hand. "He wanted to stay while I  
showed you this, but I wasn't sure if he knew."  
  
"You're the only one who does," I clarified, now even more puzzled. A  
security tape? Of Hunter?  
  
She nodded. "Just as well. Mick was horrified enough, poor man."  
She shook her head. "Said there had been rumors, but he didn't  
believe them until he saw this. Damn them both." She pushed a button  
and the TV clicked on as she glanced at me. "Shane, sweetheart, I'm  
sorry."  
  
I was about to ask her what she was apologizing for when I heard a  
familiar, beloved voice coming from the TV. I looked up at the screen  
and saw two blurry black and white figures slowly become clear. it  
took a moment for me to recognize who the two people were; the tape  
wasn't the best quality and the dark haired figure had his back to the  
camera. the moment the other man stood up, however, he spoke and I  
felt my heart constrict from the shock.  
  
<I want you in me. Now.>  
  
Hunter's voice.  
  
The image on the screen - my Hunter - kissed the dark-haired man hard  
before pulling him over to the leather sofa. He took off his shirt,  
running a hand over his own bare chest before he unbuttoned the other  
man's. The brunet took off both jacket and shirt, turning to put them  
on a nearby chair and that's when I saw his face.  
  
My father.  
  
Hunter and my father. Together.  
  
I watched, frozen in shock as Hunter undid his jeans and let them fall  
into a puddle around his ankles. He bent over the back of the leather  
sofa, bare assed, rubbing his erection against it and moaning in  
obvious need.  
  
<Put it in me, Vince.> The words came out in a raspy gasp. <Please.  
Just do it. Shove it in me.>  
  
My father chuckled as he ran a hand over Hunter's ass. <Well, I don't  
know if I should.> His voice was teasing. Taunting. <You haven't  
exactly been...appreciative lately.> He reached back and grabbed his  
shirt, slipping it back on. <Maybe I should just go.>  
  
<No!> Hunter reached back, grabbing my father's arm, desperation  
written all over his face. <Please. Don't go. I'm sorry. I'll do  
better, I promise. I just want you so much.> A pause. <Please,  
Vince. I need you to fuck me. Please.>  
  
Hunter was actually begging my father to fuck him. Begging.  
  
I couldn't stand anymore. My stomach clenched hard and I ran for the  
bathroom.  
  
I made it just in time. Everything I had eaten came up in one long  
rush. I vomited until all I could taste was bile and my iunsides  
twisted in dry heaves, sobbing all the while, tears streaming down my  
face.  
  
I felt dirty. Disgusted. Used.  
  
Vaguely I heard the water running and a cool, wet washcloth was laid  
across my neck as a gentle hand smoothed back my hair. Then my  
mother's soft voice, soothing my ragged nerves, came from behind me.  
"Shane, I want you to drink this." She put a glass under my nose.  
  
I caught one whiff of it and feebly tried to push it away. Scotch. I  
HATE scotch; it reminds me of my father.  
  
Mom, however, was persistant. "Drink it, Shane. It'll settle your  
stomach." She put the glass into my shaking hand, her srms around my  
shoulders holding me steady. "Drink."  
  
I finally managed to choke it down. The scotch burned as it went down  
my throat, but it did stop the gagging.  
  
Taking the glass, Mom put it aside and leaned down to kiss my hair.  
"Come out when you're ready," she said quietly as she drew away. The  
door closed behind her with a soft click.  
  
I sat on the floor for I don't know how long, tears slinding down my  
cheeks as I stifled my sobs so Mom wouldn't hear. I felt like my  
heart had been ripped out and some had stomped on it right before my  
eyes. /Why??/ I kept thinking over and over, the one word echoing  
through my head like a gong. /Why??/  
  
Deep down, I knew why and a sick little part of my brain understood.  
Why fuck the boss' son when you can get what you want by doing the  
boss himself?  
  
Had I meant anything to him? Or had it all been a part of his one of  
his little head games in order to get closer to my father, a stop in  
his journey to the top?  
  
My father...and Hunter...  
  
The distance between us had begun months ago, before I had retuned to  
the WWF. And Mom had said that Mick had known about the rumors for  
quite awhile. Which meant they had been...while Hunter and I still  
were...  
  
I bent over the toilet again, this time bringing up scotch and more  
bile. It wasn't as bad as the last time, however, and I managed to  
get to my feet after I was done, coughing all the while. Being sick  
had left a truly terrible taste in my mouth, and I was eager to rinse  
it away.  
  
After brushing my teeth, two swigs of mouthwash and two glasses of  
water, I finally felt like a semi-normal person again. I glanced at  
my reflection in the mirror and wiped away any trace of tears. There  
would probably be more before the night was over, but I didn't want  
to go back to Mom hysterical.  
  
What was I going to do? What COULD I do?  
  
Sighing, I flushed the toilet and cleaned myself up a little, washing  
my face and hands, straightening my shirt, running my fingers through  
my now disheveled hair. When I was halfway presentable, I opened the  
door and went out into the living room.  
  
The TV was dark - thank goodness - and Mom was sitting on the sofa  
waiting for me. She held out her arms and I went into them willingly,  
burying my face in her shoulder. I tightened my hold on her as I felt  
her tremble; I wasn't the only one with a broken heart over this mess.  
  
/34 years. How could he do that to her?/ I thought, my anger  
beginning to burn through the grief. Simple answer - Dad has always  
had his own way with just about everything. It's only been recently  
that Mom has begun to assert herself and draw the line at certain  
things. And look where that had gotten her.  
  
I brushed a kiss against her temple as I drew away, my heart breaking  
when I saw the look on her face. Defeat, plan and simple. The moment  
she saw that damned tape, her marriage had ended. Hence the missing  
wedding ring. "I'm sorry, Mom," I murmurred, not knowing what else to  
say.  
  
She shook her head. "You're not to blame, sweetheart. That," She  
waved her hand at the TV. "is your father and Hunter's doing, not  
yours." She laid her hand against my cheek in that old, familiar  
gesture. "I am so proud of you, Shane, sweetheart. You don't know how  
much."  
  
I smiled. "Yes, I do. As much as I love you." I kissed her cheek,  
pleased when she gave me a sad little smile.  
  
We were silent for a moment, the two of us simply holding eachother  
for comfort. Finally I glanced at the dark screen. "Did you watch  
the whole thing?"  
  
She shook her head. "Just the part you did," she answered. "Mick  
wouldn't let me finish it. Said it was making me too ill." She  
paused. "Honestly? It was making him sick as well. I don't think  
I've ever seen Mick that green before."  
  
I couldn't help smiling at that. A queasy Mick Foley is hard to  
imagine. "I'm glad he stayed with you," I said. "At least you wern't  
alone."  
  
She looked at me, her face solumn. "You shouldn't be, either," she  
said quietly, firmly as she put one of her hand over mine.  
  
"You sure, Mom?" I asked softly. I had already decided to watch the  
whole thing, not matter how much it hurt. I had to know, down to the  
littlest detail, even if it made me sick. But Mom was still  
recovering; the last thing she needed was added strain.  
  
A firm nod. "I'm sure." My admiration for her went up a notch as I  
picked up the remote and hit the rewind button.  
  
So we forced ourselves to watch the entire sickening spectacle, every  
disgusting minute of it. From the first kiss the moment they closed  
the office door to Hunter giving my father a blow job (something I  
couldn't help noting he never did for me) to Dad bending Hunter over  
the back of the sofa and fucking him senseless (another thing Hunter  
never let me try - he had always been the dominant one in our  
relationship) to a submissive Triple H licking my father clean and one  
last shared kiss. I held her hand as she silently cried, she put an  
arm around me as I broke down and we both would pause the tape every  
time one of us went to throw up from it being too much to take.  
  
Finally, the tape went dark and I clicked it off, feeling like I had  
been dumped into a tub of slime. I couldn't wait to get into a hot  
shower and scrub the memory of Hunter's touch off me. "That's it,  
then," I said finally, dropping the remote onto the coffee table.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Mom asked quietly.  
  
I shrugged. "What can I do? It's pretty clear who Hunter wants and  
after seeing this I'm not going to fight Dad for him. Let them be  
together for all I care. They're welcome to each other." I paused,  
glancing down at the floor. "I just...I thought he loved me, that's  
all." I turned pleading eyes to my mother. "He said he did."  
  
"Maybe he did," she said quietly, reaching up to brush my hair out of  
my eyes. "But you and I both know that he loves the gold more and  
he'll do anything to keep it."  
  
And that's what it came down to. The gold. The fucking belt. Hunter  
has always been obsessed with the damned thing, and it's not like it's  
worth all that much or means anything. All it consists of is a piece  
of leather and some gilded bits of metal. To Hunter, though, having a  
belt around his waist meant everything to him. It definitely meant  
more than me.  
  
So fine. If that's what he wanted, then he could have it with all my  
blessings. And if fucking the Devil is how he wants to do it, then  
that's fine, too. They could both go to Hell.  
  
"What about you?" I asked. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"The same thing I was planning," she replied as she got up. Going to  
the VCR, she popped the tape out and smiled. "Only now I have a  
little more leverage."  
  
For a split second, I actually felt sorry for Dad. By the time Mom  
was finished with him, he'd be lucky to have the shirt on his back  
left. It only lasted a second, though.  
  
A thought suddenly occurred to me. "What about Stephanie?" I asked,  
indicating the dark TV set with a nod of my head. "Shouldn't we show  
it to her?" Granted, I wasn't too happy with her right now  
considering how she had treated Mom, but she should know that her  
husband is screwing around with her father.  
  
Mom was quiet for a moment. "I don't think it would matter to her one  
way or the other if we did," she said finally. "According to Trish,  
she and Stephanie are seeing eachother."  
  
That opened my eyes. Trish I knew about; according to the rumors she  
was screwing her way through the female wrestlers and quite a few of  
the male ones as well. Steph, however, was a suprise; I hadn't known  
she leaned that way. Considering that her marriage had been made for  
the TV cameras, however, I wasn't suprised she was looking elsewhere  
for some affection.  
  
As for me, I was just so damn glad to be getting away from everything.  
I was more than ready to bury myself in my new business away from  
everyone here, more than ready for Atlanta. I'd had enough of being  
Vince McMahon's son and Hunter Hearst Helmsley's lover. It was time  
for me to be Shane McMahon. Just that and for the time being, nothing  
more.  
  
"Sweetheart?" I looked up, meeting my mother's eyes. "Are you going  
to be all right?"  
  
She looked so worried that I forced myself to smile. L:ike I said,  
she's been under enough strain. "I'll be fine, Mom. Rerally."  
Getting up, I hugged her. "Don't worry so much about me."  
  
"I'm your mother. That's my job," she said as her arms went around  
me. She kissed my cheek before drawing away to study me. "You're  
sure?"  
  
I nodded. "I'm sure. I'll be fine." /Eventually,/ I thought, trying  
to keep my feelings from showing on my face.  
  
By the look in Mom's eyes I could tell she wasn't buying it, but she  
let it go. I think she knew I had to deal with it in my own way.  
"all right," she said as she made her way to the stairs. "Will you  
lock up for me?"  
  
"Sure. I'll be up for awhile anyway." I kissed her cheek. "Get some  
rest, Mom. I love you."  
  
"I love you, too, sweetheart." She dissappeared upstairs.  
  
I walked through the house, flicking off lights, checking doors and  
windows, making sure everything was locked tight. Wandering back to  
the TV room, I picked up the videotape and slid it back into the VCR.  
/Why am I doing this?/ I asked myself as I picked up the remote and  
clicked it on, making sure I hit the mute button as I did so. I  
sighed as the images filled the screen; I knew why.  
  
It wasn't any better muted. Thankfully, it didn't take long for me to  
get to the scene I wanted. I pushed the pause button and just sat  
there, staring at the image I had captured.  
  
It was a close up of hunter's face.  
  
He was looking straight at the camera, eyes open and a smile on his  
face. I felt a tear slowly slide down my cheek; I knew that smile. I  
had often saw it after our lovemaking. I couldn't believe how much it  
hurt to see the gentle smile I had thought reserved for me directed at  
my father.  
  
Memorize it. Study every line, every shadow, every crease. Note that  
there must be a light coming from somewhere because it's shining off a  
patch of his long blond hair. Remember the feel of it through my  
fingers and how I used to play with it while we made love. Think  
about how beautiful it looked cascading over his broad shoulders,  
especially when those crystal blue eyes of his met mine. Remember  
every look, every touch, every whispered word, every shared moment.  
Remember it all and store it away, because I was going to make very  
sure I never saw Hunter again.  
  
Why? Because I couldn't bear it, couldn't even think of facing him  
after seeing this. It was a coward's way out, but I knew what would  
happen if I did. I'd either rip him apart...or I'd forgive him  
completely.  
  
I couldn't do either one.  
  
I'd be in Atlanta by the end of the week, far enough away to try and  
piece my heart back together. Far enough away to let my love for the  
man fade. far enough away from even a hint of anything familiar,  
anything that would remind me of happier times. Hopefully it would be  
enough; I couldn't do more.  
  
I sat in the darkness for hours, until dawn paled the sky and I  
finally went upstairs to get what sleep I could. I sat there and  
stared at my former lover's frozen image on the TV screen, silent  
tears streaming down my cheeks as I silently said good-bye for the  
second time.  
  
This time for good.  
  
************


End file.
